Chapter 47: Blade
That man… there was something about his appearance that felt so familiar, something that slowly stirred my memory with quiet certainty, as if I had seen someone like him before—not just once, but often enough that his image had been faintly etched into my mind, like fragments of a memory that refused to completely fade away.
The man’s dark coat fluttered lightly, stirred by the cold, dry night wind, producing a soft sound that was almost inaudible.
The fabric moved with each of his firm, measured steps, as if it had its own rhythm, perfectly aligned with the motion of his body.
His stride was quick, efficient, without a single movement that seemed wasted. Every step carried purpose, as though he was long accustomed to moving through dangerous situations without the slightest hesitation.
The cold aura surrounding him felt unusual—not merely the chill of the night biting against the skin, but a subtle pressure that slowly pressed against awareness, making the atmosphere around him feel heavier and more oppressive.
The air itself seemed to thicken. It was difficult to explain, yet enough to immediately put my instincts on alert. Was that man… Nick Fury?
Ah—no. Not him.
That man was Blade. Yes, Blade.
The realization surfaced instantly in my mind, like a puzzle piece finally finding its place and locking in perfectly without the slightest gap.
The name felt right, firmly attached to the figure before me, leaving no room for even the smallest doubt.
It made sense, after all—this was Earth 76, the world where Captain Carter awakened in the future, long after the war of nineteen forty-five had ended, opening her eyes in the unfamiliar and disorienting era of the two-thousands, a time far removed from the world she once knew.
Yet the world that should have been peaceful for Peggy Carter still harbored untouched darkness—something unseen on the surface, but constantly moving behind the scenes without rest.
That darkness was neatly hidden behind the seemingly stable progress of modern civilization, concealed beneath the glow of city lights, advanced technology, and human lives that appeared to carry on without significant disruption.
It was said by those who had found Peggy Carter that this world still lay under the shadow of Hydra, an organization that should have already fallen and been completely destroyed, defeated by Peggy Carter during the Second World War.
But in truth… it was not Hydra that truly ruled those shadows now.
It was something far older, far more patient, and far more dangerous—vampires.
Creatures that moved within the darkness, lurking behind modern civilization with terrifying patience, waiting without haste, as though time itself held no meaning for them.
They slipped silently into human lives, coexisting without ever truly being seen, observing from behind ordinary faces that raised not the slightest suspicion.
They hid among the crowds of the city, disguising themselves so perfectly that they were nearly impossible to distinguish from ordinary humans—except by those who truly knew what to look for.
And not only that, mutants also existed in this world, living alongside the hidden chaos, as if the world held far more secrets than anyone was willing to reveal—layer upon layer of mysteries stacked endlessly on top of one another.
In the comics, under circumstances like these, Peggy Carter was not alone. She was aided by a cyborg version of Tony Stark, a genius who had become something more than just an ordinary human, as well as a mutant woman whose abilities I had yet to fully understand—someone whose presence felt mysterious even in the videos I had watched in my previous life, as though her role was important, yet still concealed behind the shadows of a story not yet fully revealed.
Together, they fight a threat that has never truly disappeared—a threat that keeps resurfacing in different forms, changing, adapting, yet never fully vanishing from this world.
If vampires exist… then it is almost certain that someone like Blade exists as well, a hunter destined to face that darkness without hesitation and without mercy.
Damn it, I really never thought about the possibility of meeting Blade this soon, especially in a situation like this—so sudden, so completely without warning.
Honestly, aside from my encounters with Purple Man and Jessica Jones a few days ago, I haven’t truly come face to face with other strange or supernatural beings in this Marvel world.
Because of that, a situation like this feels slightly beyond my expectations—no, even more chaotic than anything I had imagined before.
That’s exactly why the existence of Blade in this world, let alone meeting him this quickly, had never really entered my calculations—not even as a remote possibility.
It feels as if this moment has leapt far beyond my expectations, crashing straight through every assumption I had carefully built in my mind about how this world was supposed to work.
My gaze returned to the fight, my breath unconsciously catching as my chest tightened. Blade’s movements were incredibly fast, almost like a shadow gliding between the dim, flickering streetlights of the night.
Each step he took was nearly silent, as if he had merged with the darkness itself, becoming part of the very shadows he hunted, leaving no trace behind.
Every swing of his weapon was precise, clean, and lethal, as though Blade had long been accustomed to facing enemies like this.
There was no hesitation, no openings, no wasted movement—everything felt deliberate and efficient.
Then… should I help Blade deal with that vampire?
The question surfaced in my mind without warning, lingering there, refusing to be ignored, echoing over and over again inside my thoughts.
I stood there for a moment, my body still alert, yet my steps halted. But… does someone like him really need help?
That doubt crept in, mixed with an uncertainty I couldn’t quite explain. Even so, I never expected to meet Blade—especially not in a place like this.
Queens… an area that shouldn’t be the stage for a battle like this.
In my mind, someone like Blade would appear more often in Manhattan—more precisely, in Hell’s Kitchen—amid the chaos of a city that never truly sleeps, where crime and shadows meet every single night without end.
Not in a relatively quiet area like this, one that feels too calm, too silent—almost completely unfitting for the brutal fight unfolding before my eyes right now.
The night wind blew softly, cold as it slipped through the gaps between buildings, carrying the distant echoes of heavy impacts that reverberated faintly against the unmoving concrete walls.
The vampire’s body slammed into the asphalt with brutal force, creating small cracks that spread like a spiderweb across the road’s surface.
Tiny fragments scattered into the air before falling back down with soft, nearly inaudible sounds, as if swallowed by the oppressive silence of the night.
Even the nearby building wall appeared dented from a single blow, leaving behind a deep, clearly visible mark even from this distance—enough to show just how powerful the impact had been.
I frowned, my eyes scanning the surroundings more carefully, trying to make sure no one else had noticed this chaos… or at least, not yet.
Is it really okay for a fight like this to be happening here?
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